


A Clash of Chaos

by MALLR4TS



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Masturbation, Nasty shit, breath play, cum, drunk, sloppy blowjobs, spit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25997671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MALLR4TS/pseuds/MALLR4TS
Summary: Micah's drunk and beats himself up for enjoying his first homosexual experience.
Relationships: Micah Bell/Bill Williamson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> done for a request!!!!!! and yes, theres gna be a part 2
> 
> Tumblr and Twitter are @MALLR4TS

Micah's drunk. 

He's not been drunk in a while, often drinking by himself during the late hours, isolated from others as he doesn't want that vulnerable side to possibly slip out. But tonight it has, tonight Micah's needy and clingy. He's wandering around the camp, eyes flicking from each of the camp members that are sound asleep. He needs company right now, anybody, anything. 

Micah continues to walk, stumbling from left to right, taking a swig from his bottle, half of the liquor spilling down his mouth and onto his barely buttoned-up shirt. The last time he was this hammered he broke down, trying his best to cling onto Baylock as he rode away from the Saloon, thankful that nobody's eyes found their way upon him. 

Tonight isn't like that. Tonight, the only thing that he wants to break down is the sexual tension that's been building up inside of him. He's in agony, aching for anything, anybody. He needs to be touched and he's certain he'll get it. Micah would never force himself onto anyone, though he wouldn't hesitate in putting a bullet between someone's eyes if they saw him like this and rejected him. As chaotic as that may be. 

He wanders through the bushes, humming to himself, his arm reaching out to hold onto each tree as he passed them, keeping himself upright. He's not too loud, but loud enough to catch the attention of the camp member on guard duty.

"Who's there?!" A recognizable voice calls out. 

"It's Micah," Micah manages to slur. He can just about see Bill through his blurred vision. "Williamson!" Micah greets him, arms out as he approaches.

"You're drunk," Bill states. 

"Yep. Feels good, don't it? I see why you get like this so often," Micah says as he props himself up against a tree. 

"You're worse than I usually am," Bill tells him, a slight hint of concern in his voice.

"So? S'fun," Micah shrugs. "Hey, Marion. I gotta ask you something," Micah blurts out. He wasn't going to ask this but fuck it, he needs this. 

"It's Bill! But fine, what is it?" Bill asks. 

"You was an army man, weren't ya?" 

"Yeah." 

"What was you discharged for?" 

"Attempted murder." 

Micah chuckles to himself. They've all seen the letter, Bill can't deny it. "Did it feel good?" 

"Huh?" Bills genuinely confused. "You know how it feels to kill a man, Micah." 

"Heh. I ain't on about that, Williamson," Micah grins, his hand coming to rest on his belt as he finishes off his drink, chucking it to the floor.

"What you mean?" Bill glares.

"I mean, did it feel good when you... you know?" Micah prods at him, despite his own suppressed feelings. He makes a gesture with his hand against his mouth, a theatrical movement of him sucking someone off. 

"Fuck off." 

"I'll take that as a yes then," Micah laughs. Before Micah can realize what's happening, he's been punched to the ground, his hat falling off, arms sprawled out. Micah feels a rush of blood in his brain, his head pounding, the booze not helping. 

He slowly manages to prop himself up onto his elbows, seeing triple. He groans, rubbing his face and eventually looking up to Bill. 

"What was that for?" Micah slurs, finally able to see just one Bill rather than three. 

"You know damn well what it was for," Bill grunts, his fists still clenched. 

Micah wipes the blood from his nose, smearing it across his cheek. "I'm gonna take that as a yes," Micah teases. This man just won't give up, will he? Micah's known to push people's buttons, including big red ones. 

"You eager to find out or somethin'?" Bill grunts again, standing by Micah's feet, looking down at him. 

"You comin' onto me, big man?" Micah goes to laugh but he's cut off, yelping out in pain as Bill grabs him by the scruff of his hair. He yanks him up onto his knees, Micahs hand grabbing onto Bills wrist to try pull him off his hair, but Micah drank his strength away a long time ago. 

Bills grip is firm, holding him in place as he tilts Micah's head back, his eyes meeting his. Bill's other hand comes to his crotch, unbuckling his belt as best as he can. 

"I'm real sick of you, Micah. You know that?" Bill huffs. Micah's eyes are drawn to Bills crotch, the two of them knowing exactly where this was going. "This ain't the first time you've prodded at me about this shit. You wanna know how it feels? Fine, I'll show you."

Bill pulls out his member, throbbing and girthy. He's not the longest, but the thickest by a mile off. Micah finally realizes the mess he's gotten himself into but for some weird fucking reason, he loves it. He's aching for it. He can feel his own cock pressed against the rough fabric of his jeans, twitching as he eyes up Bills cock. 

And to think, Micah would roast any poor person that showed any interest in the same sex. But here he is, a hypocrite as always, allowing himself to submit to the closeted man of the camp. 

Bill's hand is tight in Micah's hair, his other hand on the base of his cock. Bill moves his hips forward, his cock tapping against Micah's cheek. 

"I ain't gonna ask you to open up, seeing as you're so eager," Bill tells him. 

A part of Micah is telling him to slap his cock away and beat the hell out of this man, but he's so curious. Micah listens to his cock, as always, and opens his mouth, allowing the tip of Bills cock to slide in. 

Micah never knew a member could feel so soft yet so hard at the same time. Bills rock-solid, yet his skin is smooth and rubbing nicely over Micah's tongue. He fits what he can in his virgin mouth, which isn't much, barely even reaching halfway. 

Bills not happy, though he understands how inexperienced Micah is. He watches as Micah bobs his head on what he can, a poor excuse for a blowjob, if you can even call it that. 

"That it?" Bill asks, frowning under the brim of his hat. Micah pulls off. 

"You wanna show me how it's done or somethin'?" Micah sarcastically replies, hoping he'd get his own dick sucked. 

Bill turns his own words against him, like putting his precious knife to his own throat. "Fine, I will," Bill tells him. 

It isn't until Bill grips the back of Micah's head, that Micah realizes what he really just invited Bill to do. Bill pushes his cock back into Micah's mouth, it hitting the back of his throat for the first time, but definitely not the last. 

Micah's hands grip tightly onto Bills thighs as Bill begins face fucking him, not holding back too much. As much as he wants to use Micah, he can't break him... yet.

Bill's grunting, breathing heavily, enjoying the sound of that rat choking on his dick. For a man who's never sucked dick, Micah's taking this well, his gag reflexes naturally good.

"You musta been made for this," Bill compliments, looking down to watch the blonde man take him down his throat. Micah wants to pull off and punch him, but Bills other hand comes to rest on the back of his head. Bill lets out a quick "Hold still," before going at it. 

Micah's jaw is aching, his muscles screaming that they want to relax. There's saliva drooling from his mouth, dripping down onto crotch, soaking his own erection. Micah no longer feels dunk; He's had the drunkness fucked out of him, his vision clear enough to look up at Bill with his widened pupils, a grin across his face as he fucks Micah's mouth. 

Another choke escapes him, coughing around Bills length. Bill slows down, allowing Micah to compose himself before starting up again. By now, Micahs able to fit most of his length, Bills scraggy pubes brushing against his nose and mustache. If anybody were to find them like this, the two of them would shoot them within seconds, no matter who it is. 

Bill can feel his peak getting near, enjoying this sloppy face fucking far too much. It's been ages since he's had the pleasure of doing something as disgusting as this, and he hopes he won't have to wait as long to enjoy it again. 

Bill's eager to cum, but there's one last thing he wants to do. 

He keeps one hand gripping onto the back of Micah's head, his other hand going to pinch Micah's nose, stopping the bastard from breathing. Bill chuckles and it's the most malicious sound Micah's ever heard. It feels weird to not be in Bill's shoes, he's not used to feeling the rush of blood in his brain, nor the waterfall of tears coming from his eyes.

Bill's only in control of Micah's breathing for a few seconds, letting out a mix of a pant and a grunt as he cums in the smaller man's mouth. Micah feels disgusted, allowing this man to have his way with him; he'll never admit that he loves this, though the sudden stain in his own pants says otherwise. 

"Swallow. It." Bill orders, gritting his teeth as he slips his cock out of Micah's mouth, still holding onto Micah's nose. Micah's trying his hardest not to choke. He swallows what he can, most of it spilling from the corners of his mouth, dripping down onto his shirt. That's certain to stain. Bill finally let's go.  
Micah's already decided he'll have to rob a new shirt; there's no way he can go around like that, Bills obvious mark on his chest.

He's panting for breath, wiping away the tears from his eyes. Bill says nothing to him. He just zips up his pants and walks away, chuckling to himself. 

Micah sits back on his knees for a while, wiping the spit from his mouth and chest, a lot of it dripping under his shirt, soaking his belly. He finds his hat, putting it on after brushing his greasy hair with his hands. He's still panting, slowly getting up and looking down at himself to view how bad he was. He was soaked, a mix of his saliva, his own cum, and Bills cum. He's clammy and sticky, eager to get out of these clothes and get away for a while.

So that's exactly what he does. 

He changes into another outfit, his spare clothing stowed on Baylock as he'd never settled into the camp. Nobody is around, thankfully, and if they were he'd bark at them to 'fuck off' before they could even spot him. 

He doesn't bother chucking his clothes in the laundry, knowing from his own personal experience that cum stains. He shoves them into his saddlebag, deciding he'll find somewhere to burn them on his ride. 

Micah heads into town, robbing folks along the way, doing what he can to help himself feel dominant again. The whole time he's at it, he has that experience on his mind. It's still fresh and Micah's trying his best to beat himself up for enjoying it. 

It wasn't necessary Bill that he enjoyed, but he quite liked being submissive for once. He's never done it before, and God forbid he'd ever do it again. But Micah just can't shake it off. He can feel his cock growing again, groaning as he tries his best to think about anything else.

He can't. It's only been an hour and he's already decided that he needs that again. 

Or more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> >:)

Micah's managed to keep himself occupied for weeks, despite the thoughts that still trail in his mind. The thoughts of his jaw aching, the corners of his mouth tearing open so Bill can fit his length in. The thoughts of how hard his own cock was throbbing, harder than it's ever been with any woman. The thoughts of Bill pushing him down on his length, spit trailing out from the corners of his mouth, down onto his shirt and jeans.

Fuck. 

He's drunk again. Micah spent the evening drinking by himself at camp, eventually carrying a few bottles over to his tent and spending the night in there. Yes, he pitched his tent, just on the outskirts of camp by the forest, a little off from the main camp. He needs space to be alone, and he's dying to have some private time.

Normally, when Micah jerks off, he just heads off into the forest and leans back against a tree, just like everybody else in camp. But this was different. Micah needed his own space to... explore. 

Micah's finally allowed himself to let his mind wander, but only because the booze has lifted his mental barrier. The lantern in his tent is off, because oh god, he'd never risk anybody accidentally seeing his shadow doing what he's doing right now. And that's why the tent flaps are tightly shut, a few extra knots at the bottom, just in case.

Micah may be drunk but his consciousness is all there. He knows exactly what he's doing. He knows exactly how... abnormal this is, for him anyway. 

Another finger joins the one already inside of him. Why does it feel so good? Especially when he pushes it all the way in _right there-_

"Shit," Micah grunts thought grit teeth, jerking himself off with his other hand. His pants are around one leg, one boot kicked off, his hat somewhere in his tent, along with his leather coat. He's stripped himself off after every bottle that he's chugged down, discarding his clothes as they acted as barriers from what he wants.

But why does he want this? He's been asking himself that question all night, all week, all those weeks that have passed since _that_ incident.

Micah's been trying to keep him from his thoughts, but the more he drinks, the less he cares. He makes a mental note to beat himself up over this tomorrow, but fine, he'll allow a few thoughts of Bill to run through his mind. But he's not thinking of Bill, he doesn't like him in that way, or men as a whole; he just wants to imagine what Bill could do to him. 

So, what could Bill do to him? 

Micahs mind goes blank for a second. It's a good question that he hasn't actually thought about. Bill could fuck him, yeah, but wouldn't that be a little awkward? Wouldn't it be weird seeing Bill aftward? And it's not like Micah can escape him, they're in the same gang. 

But what if Micah likes it? What if Micah finds himself chasing after Bill every time he gets drunk? As long as it's in private, then Micah's fine with it. He's touch starved and so is Bill. Maybe they could make a mutual agreement. But Micah would never want to risk doing these things in public, he'd never find himself straddled over Bills lap in the middle of camp, drunk, begging the much larger man to drag him into the forest and spank him for being so needy.

Micah shakes his head. He'd never do that. He wouldn't even like it.

Would he? 

Micah argues with his thoughts, telling himself over and over that he wouldn't enjoy Bill fucking him in the first place. No way. It'd hurt and Bill's a rough guy, he won't hold back, and Micah doesn't like not being in control. 

Micah huffs. Fine. He'll try it, but he won't like it. 

He pulls his fingers out, wiping them down on his thigh as he pulls his pants back on, followed by his missing boot. He doesn't bother with his leather jacket, placing his signature white hat on as he rolls out from his tent. There's no point fastening the tent flaps back up, he'll be back in a few minutes, either alone and angry or with Bill trailing behind him. 

Thankfully, the camps quiet. It's late and everyone's asleep, minus those on guard duty and oh, Bill, sat alone at the table with a drink in his hand. What a surprise. A surprise that Micah was hoping for.  
Micah trails over. He thinks he doesn't look drunk but he does, though it's not too bad.

"Bill," Micah greets as he sits down. 

"What you want?" Bill asks him with a frown. 

"I'm just saying hello," Micah replies, raising his hands innocently. 

"You is after somethin', I can tell." 

"Can a fellow camp member not just come and a sit with you?" 

"They can, just not you. You is always after somethin', so go on, spit it out," Bill grumbles. He's smarter than he looks.

"Bill," Micah says as he shakes his head, trying his best to play the innocent card. "I... I is just..." Micah stops. He really hasn't thought this through, has he? How was he meant to come onto Bill? He's already used the army excuse and that was all he had.

"You chokin' on your words, Micah?" Bill laughs. "Ain't the only thing you've choked on," Bill prods at him. This is the first time either of them has mentioned the incident, and the first time they've been alone together since. But it's an open window, or Micah sees it as one anyway. 

"And what? You enjoyed it, so don't go actin' like that," Micah replies, resting his arms on the table.

"I enjoyed gettin' my dick sucked, not you," Bill corrects him. 

"Fine, whatever cowpoke," Micah shrugs. There's a moment of silence and Micah wants to fuel the fire, so he does. "Bet you been jackin' off to it since," he teases. 

"I ain't gone jackin' off to you, Micah. I ain't like you," Bill scoffs. Micah seems shocked, despite it being true. 

"Bold of you to assume I'd do that." 

"Well, why else would you come over here, huh? You only speak to me when you need somethin', and considerin' I can smell the liquor you've been drinkin', I'd say you came over here to ask me to do it again." 

Micahs genuinely shocked that Bill's read him so easily. He really isn't as dumb as he looks.

"Now that ain't true... but if you is after some mutual release then I'd be willing to bend my morals," Micah attempts to confidently reply. 

"That why you pitched your tent?" Bill starts to laugh. "So you can get drunk and beg me to fuck you in it? God, you're more pathetic than I thought, Micah," Bill continues to laugh. 

"I didn't pitch my tent for you," Micah spits. "I just needed a little privacy, that's all. Hard to get some in this damn camp with everybody snoopin' about." 

"Privacy? You is pathetic," Bill continues to laugh, thankfully not waking anybody else up.

"Fine," Micah scoffs, getting up from his seat. He begins to walk away, head hunched forward slightly, his brows furrowed. He's ready to down a hundred more bottles in hopes that he forgets about this mess, but Bill calls after him. Micah looks over his shoulder to see Bill getting up from his seat.

"Fine... I'll do it. But not for you. I just need some release," Bill says as he followed the other man. 

"As do I." 

Micah feels weird getting into his tent with Bill behind him. Micah feels weird about having a tent in the first place. He feels awkward as he does up the tent flaps, Bill shuffling about behind him, sitting on his bedroll, getting comfy as he waits for Micah to finish. 

It's a small tent, barely enough space for two large men, though they'll make it work if they sandwich themselves together, but they don't. Micah sits down opposite Bill, only able to see his faint figure as the lantern remains off. 

"Well, now what?" Micah asks. 

"Well... for starters, I ain't kissin' you," Bill huffs.

"I don't want you to," Micah replies. 

"Good."

"Fine." 

There's another awkward moment of silence before Bill orders Micah to "take off your pants." Micah can hear and faintly see Bill undoing his belt. "I'm guessin' you ain't done this before?" Bill asks him. 

"Why would I?" Micah rolls his eyes as he pulls off his boots, placing his hat on top of them.

"Well, have you prepped?" Bill asks. 

"As a matter of fact, I have," Micah proudly says. Bill begins laughing. 

"You really want this, don't you?" he mocks, snickering away. 

"Shut the hell up," Micah scoffs, smacking Bill with his pants before discarding them to a corner of his tent. 

Bill stops his laughter but he's still grinning. "Now lie down on your front," Bill orders him, shuffling up onto his knees so Micah has space. 

"...Okay," Micah says, unsurely. He lies face down on his bedroll, propped up on his elbows, his red shirt covering most of his ass. 

"You is gonna wanna put your pillow under your hips," Bill tells him as he shuffles down the tent. 

"You really know what you're doin', don'tcha?" Micah mocks as he moves his pillow. 

"And? I ain't the one takin' it, so don't bother mockin' me," Bill grunts as he pulls a tin from his pocket. 

"What is you doin'?" Micah asks. 

"Just preppin' myself," Bill replies, taking a handful of pomade and coating his cock with it. He uses a lot more than usual, knowing that Micah's going to be tight. He is a virgin, after all. 

Bill puts the pomade back in his pocket before straddling Micah, one leg on either side of his thighs, his own pants tight around his thighs. He moves Micah's shirt up, firmly grabbing Micah's ass. The shorter man looks over his shoulder after feeling Bill fondling his cheeks, wondering what he's doing. 

"I'm gonna stick it in now. You better stay quiet," Bill says as he wraps one hand around the base of his cock, the other spreading Micah open. 

"Fine," Micah mumbles, crossing his arms so his head can lie on them.

Micah seems relaxed, not realizing how bad this could be. He can feel Bill pushing his cock against his hole, though nothings happening. Micah lets out a yelp as Bills tip pops into his ass, his hole starting to throb, stinging as it slowly stretches open. 

"I said stay quiet," Bill grunts, slowly pushing his cock in. 

"How the hell am I meant to stay quiet?" Micah hisses through gritted teeth, his fists clenching as he squirms about underneath Bill. 

"Find somethin' to cry into, a blanket or whatever," Bill tells him. 

Micah puts his hand out and the first thing he grabs is his leather coat. Fine. That'll do. He bunches it up and buries his head into it, his arms wrapping around it, nails digging into the leather.

"S-shitttt," Micah hisses, sobbing against his coat.

"You ain't prepped very well. Musta forgot how thick I am," Bill snickers again. 

"Shut u-up," Micah sobs.

"I is in now," Bill says as Micah feels Bill's pubes brush against his ass. Bill holds himself there, letting Micah get used to his length. 

"Ain't this meant to feel nice? What the hell?" Micah whimpers. 

"It will. Just calm down," Bill tells him. Bill moves one of his hands from the floor, resting it in between Micah's shoulder blades, his grip tight on him. Why did that feel good? Bill moving his hand onto his back? Why did Micah suddenly have the urge to let Bill start moving his hips, as long as he keeps this dominant feeling grip on his shoulders? 

"Start movin'," Micah huffs, breathing heavily against his coat, the smell of worn leather trailing up his nose. 

Bill moves as slow as he can, pulling his cock almost fully out before he slides it back in, burying himself deep in Micah's ass. Micah can feel the burn in his stomach, his cock twitching every time Bill moves all the way in, lightly brushing against that spot inside of him. 

The two of them remain like that for a while; Micah heavily breathing as Bill slowly fucks his ass. Bill begins to pick up the pace, the grip on Micah's shoulders tightening, making his cock twitch. For once, Micahs starting to feel dominated, and despite him telling himself he'd hate it, he seems to enjoy it.

Micah's mind feels hazy and his mouth falls open, the grip on his coat tightening. He doesn't even realize he's softly moaning until Bill tells him off. 

"Shut the hell up, dammit," Bill grunts. Micah ignores his remark but tries to keep his moans silent. It's not his fault that those sounds are escaping his lips. 

Micah suddenly realizes that he's not hurting anymore, instead, he feels warm and his cock feels solid, pressed up between his shirt and the pillow. Bill's picked up the pace again and oh god, he's hitting that spot inside of him perfectly, a lot better than Micah was doing with his own fingers half an hour ago. 

Bill shifts his weight, sitting more upright as he moves his hands down to grip onto Micah's hips. Micah peers over his shoulder briefly to watch Bill slamming down into him, a lot faster than before. It feels so good, far too good. Micah has to shut his eyes and bury his head back into his coat just so he doesn't cum in the moment. 

Micah's father is rolling in his grave. He taught Micah that this stuff was awful, sin-worthy, that men like this should be shot on sight. But here Micah is, moaning louder than he ever has with any woman, his ass being plowed by a fellow camp member. If this was a sin then why did it feel so good? 

Are Bill's hands meant to feel that good grasping onto his hips? Is Bill meant to sound this good grunting behind him? Is Micah's stomach meant to feel warm and fuzzy? 

"You moan like a girl," Bill teases, snapping him out from his daydream. "Look like one too with this long hair," Bill tells him as he runs his fingers up against Micah's hair, gripping tightly onto it, pulling Micahs head up from the pillow.

"Shut up," Micah hisses.

"Shut up? Heh. I can shut you up a lot easier than you can shut me up. I ain't the one with cock in my ass," Bill smirks, plowing down into Micah a little harder, knocking the air from his lungs. Bill's leaning over him, speaking directly into his ear, the other hand moving from Micah's hip to just beside his head, keeping his weight upright. 

Micah can feel Bill's stomach pressed against his back. Considering he used to mock Bill for his weight, the feeling of a man twice the size of you, plowing down into you as he talks dirty down your ear feels far too good. He'll never mock Bill again. If anything, he'll be begging for Bill to come and dominate him. 

Bill readjusts his grip on Micah's hair, tugging onto him like he's holding reigns. He can feel Bills breaths hot on the side of his neck, trailing up to his cheek. Bill sounds far too good, making those noises right beside his ear. Is Micah blushing? Or is this tent just far too warm? 

"Shit," Bill grunts, sending a shiver down Micah's spine. "Yer still real fuckin' tight," Bill tells him as he pushes his length all the way in, making Micah see stars, his eyes shutting again as he whimpers. 

Bill holds his hips there, buried deep in Micah's ass before pulling almost all of the way out. He slams back in again, knocking a deep breath from Micah's lungs that he didn't even realize he was holding. Bill does it again and again, sharply bucking his hips into Micah's ass, continuing to push those sounds from Micah.

"I'm gonna cum in ya, Micah, and you're gonna let me," Bill grunts. "Heh, be nice to see you walkin' around knowin' my cums inside of ya." There's a sharp tone to Bill's voice, making Micahs cock twitch. 

"S-shut up... Marion," Micah hisses. That's all he manages to say. 

Bill ignores the name. Instead, he moves his hand from Micah's hair, reaching round to hold onto his throat, thumb and index finger jamming themselves in those spots under Micah's jawline, his beard brushing against Bills fingertips.

"Shit," Micah manages to choke out, eyes falling shut as that rush of blood goes to his head.

Bill goes back to fucking him at a fast consistent speed. Micah's mouth falls open, his stomach burning as his climax is on edge, waiting to happen at any moment. Bill lets out a feral groan, pushing his cock as deep as it'll go, throbbing against Micah's prostate as he spills his load in it. 

"That's a good boy," Bill growls. Oh god, that's enough to push Micah over the edge. Micah's been praised and his cock is loving it, spilling his load against his shirt, ruining another one and his pillow.

Bill finally lets go of Micah's neck, making the smaller man suck in a deep breath of air, his eyes opening. Bill slowly pulls his cock out as he shifts up onto his knees, shuffling off Micah. He sits back on them as he tucks himself away, not being too bothered about wiping his cock off. He'll sort it out later. 

Micah, whilst still panting, rolls onto his side, peeling his cummy pillow off his stomach and shirt. His mind is still foggy, still processing what's just happened. He already misses having Bill inside of him, but he'll push those thoughts aside for another time. 

"You did good," Bill says as he finishes tucking himself away. "See ya later," he tells him, quickly undoing the tent flaps and shuffling out, not looking back at Micah in his ruined state. 

Micah slowly sits upright, unbuttoning his shirt and chucking it in the corner with his pillow. A gust of cold air hits him, making him shiver, so he leans forward and closes the tent flaps. Tightly. 

Micah lies back down, pulling his blanket over him, using his coat as a pillow. He continues to pant, his ass begins to ache but he already wants it again. He needs it. He feels stupid for ever mocking people for getting off this way as Micah enjoyed that far more than he's ever enjoyed any sex with any women. 

He tries to calm his breathing, shutting his eyes. 

So now what?


End file.
